


Carrot Sauce

by moonmoth (greyvvardenfell)



Series: Fictober 2019 [18]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23571682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greyvvardenfell/pseuds/moonmoth
Summary: Nazali and Otheron enjoy the Masquerade.
Relationships: Nazali Satrinava/Original Character
Series: Fictober 2019 [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1696495





	Carrot Sauce

**Author's Note:**

> For the Fictober prompt: "Listen, I can't explain it, you'll just have to trust me."
> 
> Takes place in the Moth & Raven universe.

Otheron scanned the palace gardens, squinting against the bright strings of fairy lights stretched from bottom of the veranda to the distant hedges. The armor plates on his suit, more decorative than useful in a fight, hugged his hips and pinched at his shoulders every time he moved, but the artful arch of his long, curly hair over the top of his head paired with the sleek black shields over his eyes made his Masquerade costume one of the grandest, towering over most of the other guests. The stiffening gel and paint in his hair would take at least an hour to fully wash out, but the dramatic effect was worth it. And Otheron was not above showing off a little.

“There you are, Thero!” A familiar voice, his favorite voice, sounded warmly from over his shoulder. “I’ve been looking for that big, ridiculous scorpion tail everywhere, and I find you right where I left you.”

He turned slowly, the weight and balance of his headpiece preventing the sigh and exaggerated eye roll he wanted to retort with. “Did you expect me to wander off? You said you were going to get food and come right back, and that was, oh, half an hour ago?”

“You do have a mind of your own.”

“When it’s not being crushed by twenty pounds of hair extensions and black lacquer.”

“Well, I’m not going to apologize. You could’ve just worn a mask like me and everyone else.” Setting the plates they carried on the railing, Otheron’s companion removed their elaborately carved elephant mask and rearranged their headscarf. They shot him a brilliant grin as they propped the creation up against the marble half-wall on the edge of the veranda and reached for his eye-covers, elongated teardrops faceted into black-stained glass and set in sleek leather. “Well, damn. You do still have eyes under there,” they teased. “You’ve been wearing those goggles so long I forgot what they looked like.”

“You must be getting old, Naz, if you forget things so quickly.“ 

Nazali Satrinava rolled their eyes. “You wish, Thero. Maybe I’ll ‘forget’ to bring you food next time and you’ll have to navigate the lines in the rainbow room yourself.”

Otheron dropped his jaw in dismay. “Don’t even joke about that! Do you know how much stuff in there could stain this get-up?”

“I saw it,” Nazali said dryly. “I told you about it.”

“And oh so cruelly, you dangle the temptation in front of my nose again. Is this how you treat your patients too?” He wrinkled his nose and took Nazali’s calloused hand, rubbing his thumb over their knuckles to erase the bite from his words. 

They laughed. “Only the ones I really, really like. Carrot over stick, you know.” Nazali gave his fingers a squeeze and pulled their hand away to pick up the plates again. “And speaking of carrots, I think this orange-ish brown stuff is carrot sauce?”

Otheron took the plate he was passed and stared dubiously at the jiggling rust-colored cube. “Carrot sauce? What the hell is that?”

“You know, like cranberry sauce. But made of spiced carrots.”

“That sounds absolutely horrific.”

Nazali shrugged, picking up the opaque square and popping it into their mouth. “Hmm,” they said, chewing pensively. “Not enough cinnamon, I think.”

“I’ll take your word for it. What else did you bring?”

“Ahhmmmm… some kind of cheese. It smells a little weird and I think I overheard someone say it was made of crushed maggots, but enough of the wheel was gone that I thought it might be worth a try.”

“Naz.”

“Alright, alright. Now listen, I can’t explain what this is because I know you won’t try it if I do, but trust me, you’ll like it.”

“No bugs?”

“No bugs.”

“Nothing that’s been sublimated and reconstituted into a different state of matter?”

“What? No.”

“Is it gross in any way?”

They scowled playfully and swatted his arm. “Oh, come on, Thero. Live a little! You’re willing to sit and torture yourself for six hours getting all done up for Dia’s big party, but the second I try to expand your culinary horizons, you clam up.”

“Excuse me!” Otheron tried and failed to keep the laughter from his feigned outrage. “You got me to try beef tongue sashimi, and I love that! It’s my favorite meal!”

“That was ten years ago!”

“And I still love it!”

“Oh, you’re impossible. And I love you.” Nazali rested their head briefly on Otheron’s shoulder before recoiling from the polished chitin plates. “Ow, those pinch!”

“Sorry, Naz. If it’s any consolation, I think I might forgo this tomorrow. My neck’s so tight I might have to double-book Sef when we get back to Prakra.”

Nazali frowned. “Let me rub it tonight? I brought the massage balm we got from her last time, just in case.”

“You think of everything, don’t you?” Otheron hummed happily, ignoring the protesting twinge down his spine when he reached out to adjust their headscarf; the top had started to slip back over the crown of their head, revealing more hair than he knew they cared to. “And I love you too.”

“That’s what happens when you get old, Thero, as you so helpfully reminded me.” Nazali pressed a quick kiss to the inside of his wrist in thanks before he could retract his hand. “What you don’t forget, you remember better than ever.”

“Oh, don’t listen to me. You’ll be around for a long time yet.”

“Are you kidding?” Nazali stuck out their chest and curled the arm that wasn’t holding their plate of food to show him their muscle tone. “I’m an elephant. Fit and sound for years. You, though?” They sucked in a breath through their teeth. “You’ll be forty-four in November, and people crumble to dust when they hit fifty. Every doctor knows that.”

“You’re fifty-seven, Naz.”

Nazali held a finger up to their lips and shushed him with a wink. “Or am I? Now close your eyes. I’m not letting you go back to the party until you eat something, and truly, I brought real food too. I just couldn’t resist the chance to tease you a little.”

Otheron raised his eyebrows, allowing himself a small shake of the head even as he let out a sigh of relief. “You never could.”


End file.
